Why?

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Why?, Why can't I feel anything,

No sting of disappointment,

No feeling of shame? 

Sure, there’s the numb sting of pain,

But that’s it?

Surely there is more 

I've done this so many times before

What's different?

As the numb pain continues

Nothing happens,

I mean why?

Why won’t the blade do anything meaningful?

Sure, you make marks on my flesh 

With the red blood running so fresh

But why can’t you just cut deeper?

Deeper, DEEPER…

But as the pain slowly subsided,

The only thing I feel inside is longing,

Longing for more, more than just pathetic cuts or scratches.

I long to feel the pain of one thousand deaths twice over.

I long for Death to take me

To take the little soul I have left,

To take me to hell

Faster than the ringing of Shar's sacred bell

To take me to where I truly belong.

The pain is gone 

The silver blade now tarnished red

As I toss and turn in bed.

Lay on my cuts, it feels like daggers in my flesh.

I take a shower to wash away the evidence.

And it burns.

It burns like a mix of fire and shame.

And the only thing I ask myself now is why. . .